


Relaxation

by clevernessfound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Smut, cursing, lil bit of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:05:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevernessfound/pseuds/clevernessfound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been living and working with the Winchesters at the bunker for a while now and loving it, but you're starting to feel the stress. Crowley stops by to help you relax in a special way, but you're interrupted over the phone by the Winchesters. Not that that would stop Crowley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relaxation

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this is my first Supernatural work as well as my first time writing smut. Hopefully I did a decent job with it and I hope you all enjoy it. I'm considering doing a sequel for this, so if there's any interest in that, let me know.

You loved Sam and Dean, you really did, but sometimes they were just a little too much for you. They required what seemed to be a ridiculous amount of maintenance and care. Even with them gone, working on a case, they left a boatload of their laundry that they expected to have done.

You sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from your brow, and then picked up the white basket of the boys’ clothes you had been sorting. You braced it against your hip and trudged to their rooms, grateful that this was the last chore you had in store for the day.

It wasn’t Sam and Dean’s fault that they seemed to have such a lack of knowledge of housework, you reasoned. After all, their upbringing hadn’t been conventional, and really, you were more than happy to help them out, even if the job came with a lack of gratitude. But sometimes you wondered if the boys had any awareness of all the work you did around the bunker. Maybe they thought their clothes magically folded themselves onto their beds.

And then there were the calls.

Besides channeling your inner butler, you were also expected to have the incredible ability to rifle through dozens of encyclopedias and pinpoint the exact facts the boys needed on a hunt. And if you didn’t do it quickly, you knew you would hear all about it.

But despite it all, you loved those boys to death, and put up with the stinky laundry and impatient phone calls.

Once you put away the laundry you rushed back downstairs, eager to pick up where you left off in the latest novel you’ve been reading and to while away the afternoon lost in another world. Just as you curled up into your favorite armchair, book in hand, the phone rang. Groaning, you slammed your head against the back of your seat, then grudgingly rose to answer.

“Hello.” You said, with a cheerful tone that belied your true feelings.

“Hey princess!” Despite yourself you smile wryly. Dean’s nickname for you was so childish, yet at the same time endearing.

“Hey yourself. What’s going on?”

“We need you to look up ghouls.” You sighed, straight to business, of course.

“Well, you know how to kill ‘em, what’s so special about these ones?” you questioned.

You headed to the nearby bookshelf, reaching for the book you needed as Dean explained the situation to you.

“Uh huh, interesting. Well let me just check here…”

You placed the old tome on the table and flipped it open, rifling through page after page of worn, musty paper. Absorbed in your search, you failed to notice a presence behind you.

“Hello darling.”

You screamed in surprise and whipped around, dropping the phone in the process, and found yourself face to face with a smirking Crowley.

“Are you all right?” you heard Dean shout over the phone.

You practically growled in frustration, “Damn it Crowley, is it so difficult to announce yourself?”

“I rather thought I just did.” He flashed you another smirk.

You glared at the demon, then reached to pick up the phone.

“Yeah Dean, I’m all right. Uh listen, I’ll text you the instructions for the spell you’re gonna need.”

“Oh, uh allright. Bye then.”

You clicked the receiver and placed the phone on the table. Looking up, you found Crowley peering at the page you left the book open on.

“Ghouls, is it?” he asked.

Ignoring him you questioned, “What do you want Crowley?”

He grinned at you, “I just thought you could use some help relaxing.”

Despite your mild irritation, you couldn’t help but smile back. You and Crowley had struck up an odd sort of friendship in recent months. He would visit you at the bunker, make himself comfortable and just talk to you. At first you found him to be a nuisance, but after a while his charm broke down your barriers and you began to respond to him. His attentions soon became flirtatious, and you didn’t mind. You were even flattered, but you took none of it seriously, recognizing it as part of his nature.

But at your last meeting, some two weeks past, a drunken night tipped everything over the edge.

You had been in the kitchen, finishing off a bottle of wine, while he sipped at some scotch. It had been a much needed break after a hectic day. You don’t remember exactly how it happened, but you do remember laughing at some joke of his, then looking up and seeing palpable desire in his eyes. You had a second to wonder why it wasn’t obvious to you before, and then he pounced on you. Crowley had pressed himself against you, seared you with heated kisses, and ran his hands all over your body. And just as you began to lose yourself to him, he had disappeared without a sound, leaving you puzzled and in a near constant state of arousal for over half a month.

You had found you couldn’t stop thinking about him. It got so bad that you couldn’t even do something as simple as stand in front of the kitchen counter and cook dinner without imagining him coming up behind you, grinding his hips into you, palming your breasts, breathing all kinds of naughty things into your ear with that damn sexy voice. These daytime fantasies had caused you to retreat to your room on more than one occasion, in an effort to relieve yourself, but to no avail. No matter how you stroked yourself, no matter how vividly you imagined Crowley wildly fucking you, you couldn’t satisfy yourself. And the daytime didn’t even compare to the night. You experienced the most lifelike dreams you had ever had, all in high res detail, and they were filled to the brim with Crowley. Most mornings you woke up with soaking wet panties.

Given all your pent up feelings and frustrations that had accumulated over the past few weeks, with your work load and then the dreams, you were decidedly pissed off at the calm, arrogant presentation Crowley was giving you now, especially when his presence gave you strange flutterings in your belly.

“Relax?” you finally managed to ask.

“Mmhmmm.”

You tapped two fingers against the hardwood of the table, a habit that tended to arise when you were angry.

“And what makes you think I need you to help me relax?” you ground out through clenched teeth.

The King of Hell approached you slowly, anticipation glittering in his eyes. As he opened his mouth to speak, you cut him off.

“Goddamnit Crowley, I was all ready to relax! I had cleaned the bunker, made a food run, did the laundry, and let me tell you it’s not easy figuring out whose plaid is whose, all while running on a low battery because I was up late last night doing research. And then Dean calls again, and then you show up…” you trailed off, looking helplessly at Crowley, who lifted his eyebrows in surprise at your tirade, but surprisingly said nothing.

Taking his silence as an invitation to continue, you went on, “It’s just, the work around this house is too much for me sometimes and I could probably personally wrangle a bull before I wrangled a thank you out of the boys, and maybe that sounds petty and maybe I’m whiny, but-“

“No, no darling, that’s not petty at all.” Crowley interrupted.

You looked up at his face, and were surprised to see the sympathy in his eyes.

“Really?” you asked.

“Really.” He replied, “Those Winchesters are quite wrong to take you for granted. Can’t say I’m surprised though.”

You smiled wryly at him, “Ah well, I know they don’t mean it.”

Crowley snorted, “Sometimes sweetie you’re too forgiving, especially toward that moose and squirrel.”

You wanted to come to Sam and Dean’s defense, but you couldn’t help but giggle at Crowley’s ridiculous names for the boys.

Crowley’s thin lips curved a bit at the sound, “There’s that silly laugh.”

You were surprised to feel the tension leave your shoulders at the sound of Crowley’s teasing, and you were suddenly reminded of the fact that outside of the sexual frustration he brought you, the King of Hell had shaped up to be an excellent friend to you. And maybe an afternoon with a friend was all the relaxation you need. Buoyed by the thought, you resolved to finish this one last chore for Dean, then give your time to Crowley.

“Just gimme a sec, I have to text Dean.” You said.

“So, what else has been bothering you?” Crowley asked once you finished, “Anything I could help with?”

“What do you mean?” you asked bemusedly. He was acting rather odd. Usually by this point he would be making himself comfortable, or walking around complaining about something. The King of Hell had an unusual intensity about him tonight.

Crowley’s friendly demeanor had dissipated somewhat, and he was staring at you with an all too knowing look in his eyes, “I mean, darling, that I wasn’t kidding when I said I was here to help you relax. Sexual frustration can be a rather nasty thing, can’t it?”

“I-I, you, what?” you sputtered. All the memories of the past two weeks returned to you. Crowley kissing you, you remembering the warmth of his body as you touched yourself at night. But there was no way he would know about that.

Crowley pointed at himself, “King of Hell, formerly of the Crossroads, think I can’t read body language?”

You stared at him, too stunned to reply.

“Not to mention”, he continued, “I might’ve stopped by a few times after our little encounter, just to see what you were up to.”

“You spied on me?!” Allright, so he did know.

“Well, I needed to know if you were as affected as I was.”

“Crowley, what the hell are you talking about? I’m not “affected” with anything.” you denied, somewhat weakly.

“Really?” Crowley’s voice took on a low, raspy growl, “So you haven’t been in a fit of lust these past few weeks? I just imagined all those times I saw you touching your pretty little pussy, screaming my name? I can tell you I've had to take care of myself, just thinking of you.”

His words opened a floodgate. Suddenly, all your desire from the past two weeks rushed forward and spilled over the edge. Heat pooled between your legs, and your heart thumped erratically as you stared at the demon in front of you. You longed to reach out and touch him, to enact all the fantasies you had conjured.

“Well?” Crowley’s eyes roved over you, and you could just imagine the images going through his mind.

“Well what?” you managed to whisper.

Stepping forward, Crowley wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His warmth combined with your arousal made you weak in the knees. You looked up and were nearly undone by the lustful expression on Crowley’s face. You tilted your head and stretched up toward him, your invitation clear. With a growl, Crowley brought his lips to yours.

The kiss was slow, and exploratory at first, but quickly increased in urgency. You felt him lick your bottom lip, seeking entrance, which you gladly gave. As the kiss deepened, you moved backward, pulling Crowley with you, until your back found the edge of the table, stopping your progression. Breaking the kiss, Crowley gripped you by hips and lifted you onto the table, spreading your legs wide in the process. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and pulled him in closer.

Crowley groaned at the contact, “I’ve been waiting to do this for so long, pet.”

You laughed softly, “You and me both.”

You started to grind your core against the growing bulge in Crowley’s pants, the friction sending delicious sparks of pleasure through your body. Silently, you thanked God that you had opted for light, athletic shorts today instead of cumbersome jeans. As Crowley continued to rub his hardening cock against you, you felt his lips meet your neck, peppering soft kisses against your skin in a slow progression toward your jawline.

You moaned loudly, eliciting a chuckle from Crowley, “You like that, darling?

“More.” You murmured.

As Crowley captured your lips in another searing kiss, you felt his fingertips brush the hem of your shirt. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his hands slip under the fabric and slide upward over the surface of your stomach. Breaking the kiss, you quickly rid yourself of your shirt and started to remove your bra, when with a snap of his fingers Crowley made your clothing disappear entirely.

Stepping back, Crowley surveyed your nude body. Feeling slightly self-conscious under his gaze, you began to close your legs, but Crowley stopped you by placing his hands on your knees.

He smiled at you, “Stunning.”

Moving forward again, Crowley advanced one hand up your leg until it reached the wet apex of your thighs. You moaned with pleasure as you finally felt his fingers where you wanted them, stroking your folds, occasionally dipping in them, stoking your desire.

Bringing his mouth to your ear, Crowley whispered to you, “You’re so wet for me, sweetie. Would you like me to take you right on this table?”

“Y-yes.” You bucked your hips wildly into his hand, seeking more friction.

“Mmm, so eager.” Crowley breathed.

He dipped two fingers into you, moving them in and out at a teasingly slow pace, while his thumb circled your small bundle of nerves.

“Oh God, Crowley that feels so good.” You breathed.

He slid his fingers deeper inside of you, and curled them slightly, hitting your sweet spot.

“Crowley!” you screamed.

With a quick flick to your clit, you were seeing stars. You screamed Crowley’s name again as pleasure overtook your body.

When you came down from your high, you noticed Crowley had removed his clothes via demon magic, and had his cock poised at your entrance. “You ready darling?” You nodded your consent as Crowley pushed into your body. The sensation of being filled by him was overwhelming, and far better than any fantasy. You whimpered and moaned as he moved in you, pulling him in closer with your legs, and gripping him tightly around the neck.

“You like having my cock in you?” Crowley asked, his breath ragged

. A moan was your only reply.

Crowley breathed heavily, “What would Sam and Dean say if they saw you now? Fucking the King of Hell on a table.”

Crowley’s cock had just found your sweet spot, and you were finding it difficult to focus on anything but the pure sensations of pleasure he was giving you.

“I don’t know Crowley, just shut up and fuck me.” You groaned.

He chuckled a bit, and did as you bid. He struck that sweet spot again and again with long, hard thrusts. You were so close, so close.

BRINGGG BRING, BRINGGG BRING

“Goddamnit!” you yelled in frustration.

Luckily, the phone was in arm’s reach, and with an apologetic smile toward Crowley, you reached to answer it.

“What?” you answered rather ungraciously.

Sam’s bemused voice was on the other end, “Hey, bad time?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

Crowley huffed impatiently at this exchange, but you ignored him.

You sighed, “What’s up?”

“Actually, me and Dean were thinking-“

As he talked you felt intense pleasure building between your thighs. Crowley had started moving within you again, at a tantalizingly slow pace. You turned to glare at him, and was met with an unapologetic smirk. Despite your attempt to pay attention to Sam’s words, all you could focus on was the feel of Crowley’s cock inside of you and the feel of his hands on your body, roaming all over, leaving trails of heated skin in their wake.

“So, can you do it?” Sam asked.

“I-um, Ohhh, ohhh!” you moaned.

“This is my time with you, love.” Crowley growled .

His words were delivered teasingly, but looking in his eyes you could discern a possessiveness that made you even wetter than you were. You had tuned out Sam’s confused voice on the other end, asking if you were allright, and you dropped the phone altogether when Crowley’s hands snaked up to cup your breasts. He gently squeezed and kneaded them as he slowly pounded into you, the combination driving you wild. You began to meet his movements with thrusts of your own, and were pleased to hear a throaty moan escape his lips.

Crowley gripped your hips and increased his tempo, “You’re mine.” He growled.

“Yes.” You whimpered.

“You. Are. Mine.” Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust and a loud slap of skin on skin.

“Crowley, oh fuck, I’m so close.” You moaned.

A few more thrusts to your sweet spot sent you over the edge. Feeling your walls clench around him, you screamed out his name, riding a wave of pleasure. He followed you soon after, spilling his seed inside of you. For a moment neither of you could speak, and the air was filled with the sound of your heavy breaths. Wrapping your arms around Crowley’s neck, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes. You felt Crowley’s hand snake around you and gently rub your back.

“That was incredible.” you panted.

“Mmmm.” Crowley hummed, “What do you say we make an afternoon of it?”

Opening your eyes, you met Crowley’s heated gaze and giggled a bit. “Sounds good to me.” You murmured, planting a kiss on his neck eliciting purrs of pleasure from him.

And then you realized.

“Oh my God, Sam!”

Detaching yourself from Crowley, you lunged toward the phone.

“Sam? Are you still there?” you prayed that they hadn’t heard you and Crowley.

“I, um, yeah.” The discomfort in Sam’s voice told you everything you needed to know.

“Oh my God. I don’t know what to say.”You were mortified.

“So, you and Crowley, uh? Sounds like he took care of you at least.” Dean’s voice came over the other end.

You paused for a moment, “Am I on speaker?”

“Yeah.” Came Sam’s voice.

“And the whole time you listened?!” you shouted. You vaguely heard Crowley’s laugh from behind you, but chose to ignore him.

“Well, we didn’t want to interrupt. That would be rude.” Came a third voice.

“Cass?! Is there anyone else there I should know about who just heard me having sex? Jesus Christ.”

“No, he is not here.” Cass answered seriously, “And if it’s any comfort I don’t think he would judge you on your sexual habits.”

As Dean laughed hysterically on the other end, you wondered seriously how you would ever manage to live this down.

“Allright, my turn darling.” Crowley had come up behind you and plucked the phone out of your grasp.

“Hello boys. Now here’s how things are going to go. I’m going to borrow your little angel here for a few days…No, not you Cas, I’m speaking metaphorically. Anywho, I’m going to whisk her away and give her some much needed, ah, what was the word? Relaxation.” He turned and winked at you as he said this.

“Frankly, you morons have worked her to the bone and at this point she deserves it. Questions?”

There was an angry chorus of protests on the other end.

"Thought not." With a press of a button, Crowley silenced them. 

 

 At some point in his little speech, your embarrassment was replaced by pure joy. A break sounded heavenly.

“You’re whisking me away?” you asked coyly.

Crowley leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips, “To wherever you want to go sweetheart.”

You laughed before kissing him back eagerly. Now that sounded like the kind of relaxation you were looking for.


End file.
